The Woodland Cottage
by Anonymous Idiosyncrasy
Summary: A young woman stumbles upon an abandoned cottage, and a mysterious, not to mention gorgeous, caretaker. What happens when she falls for him?
1. The Forest's Cottage

I was walking through a dense wood. There were trees all around, higher than the highest buildings I had ever seen. I kept walking when I realized there was no sound. I could see my feet moving, but I couldn't hear the sound of the dried leaves crackling underneath them. I could see the birds swoop from tree to tree, but I couldn't hear the light flapping of their wings. Suddenly I stopped. In front of me was an old cottage. It was quaint and rundown, but it was getting dark and starting to rain, so I ran inside. There I found a fire already bright in the hearth, and a blanket lay over the back of a chair. I grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around myself, lying down near the fire. I hadn't realized how cold I was. I fell asleep almost immediately, and when I awoke, I found myself in a cot before the fire's embers and a bowl of porridge on the table on the other side of the room. Lying on the same chair the blanket had been on was a pair of black breeches and a navy blue shirt. I got up and put the clothes on, looking around the room for the person who seemed to know I was here, yet didn't show themselves. After I dressed (in clothes that fit amazingly well) I sat down at the table. The cereal didn't look any different than the food I used to eat at home, and still, I was wary. I picked up the spoon and took a sip. Oh.it was lovely! I hadn't taste something so good in as long as I could remember. I soon had eaten the whole bowl, forgetting my earlier fears. I got up and wandered around the small cottage, looking at the paintings on the walls, and the sparse furnishings. It was small, but wonderful. I sighed and sat in the chair; gracious for the shelter in the land I had thought to be uninhabited. Then it struck me. I could hear myself again! What had happened? Who knew? I didn't know it then, but I never would know. The wind was sighing in the trees, and the storm was still raging outside. I moved the chair closer to the embers, and curled up with the blanket wrapped around me. I awoke when I heard the movements. There was someone else in the cottage! The person who had given me all those things! They were here, now! I peeked through my half closed eyes, and what I saw made my breath hold. In front of the fire was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. His black hair was framed by the roaring flames, making a sort of halo about his head. His bright blue eyes stared back at me out of a face made of bold cheekbones and a strong jaw. His lips were sensuous, and I couldn't stop myself from wondering what they would feel like press against mine. His hands were wide, a workingman's hands, and I imagined they would feel like smoothed leather against my skin. Suddenly he spoke, snapping me out of my reverie. "Hello, a ghra," his voice was deep and rich, like red wine with gold edges. He looked at me as if I was a treasure, and with his attention, I felt like one. I sat up straighter in my chair, aware of my rumpled clothes and messy red curls. "Hello." Why couldn't I think of anything to say? Meeting this man was like meeting a god of old. I didn't know whether he was real or I was hallucinating. " I've been preparing for you a long time. You look even more stunning than I've dreamed," I let his words wash over me, like being swallowed by a silk sea. Then I realized what he had said. " Waiting for me?" He'd dreamed of me? How could he know me? He wasn't older than me. It was almost laughable. Probably the same age. He might be a little older, but if he had ever seen me, I would have remembered him. "Yes." He laughed, like pipes and flutes coming from a far off shore, sweeping me up into the clouds, " I'm much older than I look. Trust me," " Oh," I was drifting slowly back into sleep, my eyelids heavy. But I couldn't. I had to know more about this handsome stranger, "Are you the one who left the things for me?" "Yes." He smiled at me, the grin lighting up his features, " Sleep, my flame-haired angel. In the morning I will still be here." "Alright." I closed my eyes, and tumbled into dreams. He stood and walked toward my sleeping form. His hand reached out to touch my cheek. He kneeled next to my chair, his eyes on my lips, my closed eyes, my cheeks, my long, red curls, " Skin so fair," He fingered the tips of my waist-length hair, " You have grown, a ghra, a amhain. How you have grown since last I saw you. You have become a beautiful woman." He stepped away from me, denying the urge to kiss, to taste, to touch, " It is not yet time." And he was gone. 


	2. The Dress of Emeralds

I awoke to a large fire and warm blanket. In front of me on a table was some of the porridge I had eaten the day before. I grabbed it and started eating like someone starved. My dreams that night had been so vivid, it was almost like they had actually happened. I laughed at the thought. There was no gorgeous man watching over me. I was alone in an enchanted cottage, that was all. I looked down at the empty bowl in my hand. I needed to find a way to get dinner and supper, or I would soon starve. The cottage couldn't do everything for me.  
"Would you like some more?" I started, dropping the bowl onto my lap. I turned, even though I already knew who it was. The voice was unmistakable. He was standing beside the chair. He was real. He was offering me more porridge, and I was acting like a fool.  
"No, thank you." I set the bowl on the table, then stood in front of this god-like man, wringing my hands.  
"Would you like more clothes?" he asked me. I looked down at my wrinkled garments, then back to him.  
"If it isn't a burden." I could use a brush also. But that could wait.  
The man walked into another room and I could hear him rummaging around. Oh, he was there. He was real. Could he really be there? Of course not. I pinched my arm, and then flinched. Ow! So it wasn't a dream. But maybe he was one of those otherworldly devils father had warned me about. This was an enchanted cottage, after all. He could be one of the Faerie Folk, waiting to lure me onto his raft and keep me forever, laughing as I did everything wrong.  
He walked back in, his hands full of a soft, silk-like fabric. I looked over, in awe of the expensive cloth. Gleaming green, the color of the trees hanging their branches over the cottage, up to the sky. He unfolded it, and I realized it was a dress. A beautiful, expensive dress, for me to wear casually. For me to work in. I couldn't possibly.  
"Here, take it." He said, holding it out to me, seeing the awe in my eyes. I reached forward, fingering the soft material. Oh, how it would feel to slide into this, as if I wore something like it every day I could see the Delicate embroidery on the sleeves, framing the neck line. I took it, caressing it like a newborn child. My eyes gleamed as I looked back at him.  
"Are you sure you want me to wear this? It seems like something for a special occasion. I need to work. You can't care for me always." I held tightly to the dress, not wanting to let it go, but knowing I had to. He had made a mistake.  
"It is a special occasion. Put it on. I'd like to see you in it." His eyes flickered, an emotion passing quickly through them, unidentifiable. He turned, walking back into the room he had come from, and waited. I lifted the dress to my body, looked down on it. It was so lovely. I turned, making sure he wasn't there, and took off my shirt, quickly pulling the dress down over my head. I shrugged out of the breeches, pulling the dress into the right position. I marveled at how perfectly it fit me, as if made for me, and no one else. The fabric was soft and wonderfully smooth against my skin, and my red curls looked as flame against the fabric. My neck looked bare, and I longed for jewelry to complete the wonderful picture I had made.  
I heard a sound behind me, and turned to see the man holding a necklace. It was small, and delicate, made of braided gold and small amber stones that hung regularly on the chain, in a beautiful pattern with the emeralds, looking like Brandy roses in full bloom, the leaves vivid green and the petals tender and bright. I held my hair away from my neck, and he placed the necklace tenderly on my milk white skin. I turned, and smiled, the quiet companionable after a short moment of tension. His eyes seemed to take in every part of me, and I felt as if her could hear the swift beating of my heart against my ribs as I gazed at him, his black hair gleaming, like a raven feathers.  
"You look beautiful, a ghra. The dress suits you." He had changed also, it seemed. He wore a pair of black breeches, made from a material I had never seen, but looked as soft as falling snow. His navy blue shirt was delicately embroidered, the stitches invisible on the hem. As much as I marveled at the handiwork of this creation, ever more was I amazed at how he looked in it. He was more handsome than when I had first seen him, seeming to glow with an inner light. He smiled, and my heart seemed to melt. I gasped, shocked. My pulse beat rapidly in my head. Could it be? This was impossible. I didn't even know his name, and I had fallen, hard and deep, and I was afraid I would never get out of this instantaneous love I had foolishly leapt into. 


End file.
